


Figment of My Mind

by wordswithinmoments



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Parenthood, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:26:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25047619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordswithinmoments/pseuds/wordswithinmoments
Summary: Oikawa Tooru develops the habit of closing his eyes and falling for the figment of you. (dad!oikawa)
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru & Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 93





	Figment of My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by Bruno Major's song Figment of My Mind :) cross posted on my tumblr! (wordswithinmoments)

If Oikawa Tooru closed his eyes he would see you standing in a purple sundress walking barefoot in the grass. He would breathe in the scent of summer and roses and hear the sounds of your laughter distant in the background.

From his spot in the grass, he’d see you walking over to him carrying a tray of the watermelon that you just sliced. He hears you say, “Mom just bought it home! They’re _extra_ sweet!”

And your voice sounds _so_ clear that Tooru shuts his eyes tighter so he could let himself drift further.

“Why are you always wearing purple?” He says, reaching out to take the tray from your hands.

“I like purple.” Came your reply and he’d pout in your direction before murmuring something about how purple was _so_ Shiratorizawa—but the way you’d wipe the corner of his mouth and kiss his cheek made him forget all about his momentary anger.

-

And as he closes his eyes and lets himself be led by the figment of you, he smiles as he sees you with a puffy purple jacket in a middle of a snowy field in Hokkaido. Oikawa prefers the warmer weather but he likes to see you smile, so he says yes to the impromptu trip you suggested to take during one weekend.

He’d rather be inside the hotel with a mug of something warm and a _damn blanket_ , but you look so happy in the snow that he thinks to himself he doesn’t mind the cold that much.

Tooru sees you beam at him and wave him over from the pile of snow you decided to lay on so he leaves his post and walks closer to your figure. His eyes lock on your figure almost swallowed by the amount of layers you have on so he bends down and brushes away the sound that found its way to your cheek.  
  


“Toooooru, come lay down next to me.” Your voice is still _so_ clear.

And his eyes shut tighter because as he lays down next to you in the cold snow that he _usually_ hates, he sees the red on your cheeks bloom a bit brighter, sees how pretty you look when you scrunch your nose at the snowflakes landing on your lashes, he feels his heart clench in the way that he isn’t sure whether hurts in a good or bad way.

After the snow falls a little too harsh for even _you_ to suggest calling it a day, the two of you sit in the car with the heat on. Tooru notices you blowing hot air into the palms of your hands and rubbing them together so he chuckles before taking off the scarf on his own neck and wrapping it around you.

As he drifts even further into the seemingly more vivid memory of you, he feels the warmth on his cheek from the kiss you give him and he suddenly wants to cry.

He hears himself say that you look like a _purple angel_ playing in the field and then hears your laughter chiming like bells.

“Thanks for the day out, Tooru, even if you don’t like the cold.” He hears you say after a few beats of silence, so he smiles with his hands still at 2 and 10 in the steering wheel and tells you, “I don’t mind the cold as much.”

But even as Oikawa Tooru shuts his eyes further all he sees is a quiet road ahead and he can’t help but wish he took a quick glance to his side so he could remember how you looked bundled up in your purple jacket and his white wooly scarf.

-

And during this December night just a few days away from Christmas, twenty nine year old Oikawa Tooru opens his eyes and jumps in his seat because in front of him stood two year old Misaki holding a white scarf with a pout on her face.

“Papa, s’ not good to nap in the cowd!” His daughter’s voice rings as clear as yours had been just a few moments ago so he lets himself be pulled back to reality.

Tooru blinks, then his heart lurches because for a second he thinks he sees _you_ , but later lets himself exhale because he just sees your daughter in a puffy purple jacket he bought a few days ago at the memory of you.

“Sorry, angel. Papa was just thinking of your mama again.” He explains as she climbs on his lap and throws the white scarf over him.

Her brown eyes blink at him and settles in waiting for a story she feels her father will tell her—and without delay he leans back after zipping up her jacket, making sure she’s warm, and speaks, “Did you know your mama had the same jacket like you have now?”

Tooru softens at her as she touches the fabric of her jacket with childlike awe, then she raises her hand facing him giggling, “Mama’s a _purpo_ angel!”

He laughs and ruffles her hair, “ _Purple._ ”

“ _Purpo_.” She repeats, then laughs as she covers Tooru’s mouth preventing him from correcting her again.

“What else did mama like?” she asks, her voice quiet and small, but _so so clear_ to Tooru.

Tooru points to the night sky and replies, “On our first date I took your mama to watch the stars and she really liked it after.” He pauses to watch her face the night sky, and the way her eyes glimmered made his heart swell because he sees _so much_ of you. “When you were still in your mama’s tummy, she liked to sit out here and watch the stars with me.”

Misaki perked at the mention of her presence, and beamed at her father. “Mama liked _stars_?”

Tooru hums a yes and thinks back to the night you forced him to sit in the balcony with you because you wanted to _star gaze_ and needed his help to trace out any possible constellations—then thought of the last night he was able to watch the stars with you before you left the world.

He tries not to cry because he wished he was looking at _you_ instead of the skies that night, so he shakes the urge to cry and smoothed his daughter’s hair instead. ‘ _If only you can see her now y/n,’_ he quietly thinks to himself as she lays her back against him letting Tooru wrap his arms around her.

“Did you see stars like tonight with Mama?” Her eyes, even with his hue sparkle in a way that remind him of how your eyes sparkled in Hokkaido.

“There were.”

Misaki notices the solemn look on Tooru’s face as he presses his cheek against the soft fabric of the scarf and tells her, “If only your mama can see you now, angel.”

She looks at him with an expression that doesn’t look like it should have been worn by someone that is _just_ two years old, but Tooru knows better because she _is_ your daughter after all.

And as he sees Misaki point up to the stars and say, “Papa she’s here because there are stars!”, his daughter’s voice reach him loud and _so clear._ So as he looks at the stars, then at his daughter’s puffy purple sweater, red cheeks, and sparkling eyes, he supposes she is right and you’re always going to be around.


End file.
